Remember Me
by kausingkayn
Summary: The measure of immortality is taken in memories - and those that are left to remember. The simple story of the complicated relationship of Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones, starting at the end. AU Jack/Ianto
1. Meeting Him

**Author's Note: Yes. I am now officially addicted to AU. :-P So, here is another journey of mine, hope that you guys enjoy this as much as To Save A Life. So far, I am planning on at least 14 chapters, but it may grow as time passes. So, buckle up, grab your tissues, and away we go! Yes - this is a tissue alert. I like trying to make my readers cry for some reason...anyway.**

**Special thanks to the wonderful SiriusDoctorWhoHoney329 for being my loverly beta-reader.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood - sadly, Russell T. Davies does.**

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_**"Meeting Him"**_

_~ We were given: Two hands to hold. To legs to walk. Two eyes to see. Two ears to listen. _

_But why only one heart? Because the other was given to someone else. For us to find._

The breeze blew gently, slipping through the cracks between the tree leaves, whistling softly, proclaiming in cruel, joyful voices what a beautiful day it was. There were barely any clouds in the sky, the sun shining down on every inch of Earth's surface, warming everything it touched. The birds sang in wonderment of the perfect day, flitting to and from branches with ease. It was truly a magnificent day – nature could be so cruel.

For it was only the singing of the birds that graced the small caravan's ears as they slowly pulled up to the funeral home. No one wanted to enter, for each and every one of them knew exactly what would greet them on the other side of the door. More pale, tearful faces. A waxen corpse that would cement a horrible image in their mind of the final look of a man who had once been strong. A haunting hall that reeked of death and despair, the sounds of sobbing eternally echoing through the walls.

Yet they steeled themselves and entered, walking through the heavy doors and signing the guest book, the black ink looking ominous against the parchment paper. They would nod sadly to the nameless men standing by the door, milling about in the reception room, silently daring one another to take a peek inside the viewing room.

The dreadful room had been covered with flowers, each bouquet from another friend or family member or stranger who had heard of his passing and decided to send some kind of physical 'I'm sorry.' The bright colors did nothing to lighten the mood – if anything, it made the occupants feel even more desolate.

The coffin was magnificent, far too large to hold the body of the frail man, yet ten sizes too small to hold his soul. The lid was open, allowing those who were brave enough to take a quick look, scarring their mental image of the deceased forever.

The pictures of the man were large and deceiving, showing the happier times – his smile that blinded any who looked, even when it was copied on paper. Poses of him and his husband – laughing, smiling, kissing. Wedding photos, honeymoon snapshots, vacation memories. His books, those that managed to get published, sat on a table off to the side, open and willing, begging to be read, scared to be lost under all the grieving.

Next to the books, there were even more photos, all crammed into photo books, depicting his short life. Everyone noticed how the multitude of pictures drastically decreased as the dates became closer to his passing, yet no one said a word. They didn't want to see photos of him in his last days anyway; no one wanted to be reminded of what he had been turned into. No one wanted to live through that anymore.

Then finally, the mourners would approach the coffin and peek inside, unable to stop the flow of tears when they were hit with the sight. He looked peaceful at last; the pain that had been evident in his face for so long was finally gone. His face was pale and sunken in; there were dark rings around his eyes. Even though the corpse had been prepared for the viewing, there was no hiding how thin and frail he was underneath his clothes. His hands were bony and thin, clothes sunken in.

Some, when they approached, gave a small smile – they had known how much he had suffered in his last days, and were relieved for him to finally be somewhere that he could exist without pain. But everyone cried – silently, sobbing, screaming.

The low murmur of the room hushed immediately when the husband entered the room. The funny stories of the deceased died on the guests' lips, eyes trying to subtly watch the young man, but failing to be anything but obvious.

He walked slowly, unable to meet anyone in the eyes. He approached the coffin, leaning on the edge because he didn't have enough strength to stand on his own. He glanced inside and choked on a sob, tears cascading down his face as his pale fingers reached out to stroke his lover's face. The skin was cold and hard under his fingers, and he fought the urge to slide to the floor and never get up. His hand shook as it slowly made it's way down his deceased husband's arm, stopping to take his cold, lifeless hand, stroking the ring finger, where the wedding band was prominently displayed. It felt wrong, holding hands, but he couldn't let go – wouldn't let go.

"Love you," he whispered his voice shaky and cracking from the words. The room remained deathly silent.

_Ianto remembered the first time he had ever set eyes on the man. It was half past noon, and he was serving a double shot espresso to I'm-always-late-woman at the counter. She had flashed his a grateful smile, but forgot to say thank you, barely having the coffee in hand before sprinting out of the store, more than likely on her way to a meeting that she was already late to. She came in every day at fifteen past and ordered that coffee – Ianto had grown accustomed to her and already had the order ready to go a few minutes before she was to arrive. However, she had been running even more behind than usual, and he had had to make a new one – the wasted coffee coming out of his pay. That was the last time he took initiative._

_The woman, in such a rush, ran into a man that was entering the coffee house. She apologized; the words finished spewing from her mouth after she was already out of the door. The man had just chuckled in good nature and gave a small wave, dusting his shirt off and flashing a blinding grin before resuming his original goal of entering the store. _

_Ianto had caught the whole ordeal, and wasn't able to stop staring at the man. He was, in simple terms, gorgeous. Movie-star good looks – high cheekbones accompanied by suntanned skin, baby blue eyes, and hair that seemed to just want to help him look as sexy as possible. His tight white t-shirt and blue jeans weren't helping the matters either. The suspenders were a strange, but uniquely erotic addition, and Ianto was forced to lick his lips in order to get then moist again. The man also had a satchel thrown over his shoulder, the bag obviously carrying something of importance, his hand never straying far._

_Then the unknown movie star turned his head and locked eyes with Ianto, his eyebrow raising and mouth forming into a cocky smirk. His eye moved in a winking motion, and Ianto felt his cheeks heat up rapidly. He coughed and blinked several times to cover-up his obvious staring, before turning and focusing the order that had just come through from the other cash register. Thoroughly humiliated, Ianto tried to draw out the order, hoping that the new man would leave him alone and thrust the other cashier under his spell. Ianto's hope was short lived however, when he turned around to find the man waiting patiently at _his_ register. Damn._

_Ianto shakily handed the mocha frap to the waiting customer and managed to give off a weak smile before turning back to the man who was waiting, inwardly cursing himself for his nerves. He was horrible around strangers, especially ones that tended to have attractive features. _

"_H-hello, how can I help you?" Ianto asked, stuttering over his first word before his brain caught up with his tongue. He mentally scolded himself for being such a wuss, catching the tips of his mouth before they turned down to that unhappy frown that his friends always claimed he wore when he was upset at himself._

"_Hi there," the man said, his voice strong, washing over Ianto like a calm tide. "Just a regular coffee please, black – strongest you've got."_

_Ianto nodded and hurriedly pushed the buttons on the register, reaching for the proper size coffee cup then freezing, his addled brain desperately trying to remember what he was supposed to do next._

_Name. Get a name. Right. He blushed then made a wild grab for the sharpie sitting on the counter. Ianto risked a glance into those eyes and wished he didn't, being on the receiving end of an amused grin. He coughed. "Right, name, sir?"_

"_Jack." The other man said simply._

_Ianto quickly scribbled out the four letters onto the cup and set it to the side. Jack – it was a nice name, strong, simple, to the point. He liked it._

_He forced himself once again to focus on the job at hand. He needed to take the money from Jack, then make his coffee – simple, right? "Um, that'll be 2.39."_

_He watched as Jack dug into his bag, frowning a bit as he took his attention away from the cash register to glare inside, his fingers unable to find what he was looking for by touch alone. A triumphant grin on his face, Jack withdrew his wallet, and counted out three single bills before handing them to Ianto. He took them and hastily made change. _

"_61 cents is your change." Ianto said, his fingertips briefly coming in contact with Jack's palm as he deposited the coins into the other man's hand. Ianto forced himself to turn away, and buried his thoughts into the process of making the best damn coffee he had ever created._

_He immersed himself into his work, measuring out ingredients perfectly, and taking his time. He finished the brew and poured it into the cup, making final preparations as he snapped the plastic lid onto the top. Satisfied, he turned back to the counter, where Jack was still waiting patiently. Ianto outstretched his hand and gently lowered the Styrofoam cup onto the counter, not trusting himself to hand over the cup in the air – he would surely spill it._

_Jack took the cup with a nod, and then leaned over the counter, closer. Ianto's heart skipped a beat and he opened his mouth to stutter out a question, but he was unable to form words. Jack withdrew as quickly as he had advanced, and gave a wink. "Thanks Jones, Ianto."_

_Ianto let out a breath that he didn't know he had taken. Of course – the man was only trying to read his nametag. He glanced down and let out a nervous chuckle. When he brought his gaze back up, he caught the retreating form of the man, coffee in hand. Ianto watched longer than was absolutely necessary and then shook his head and ran his shaky hand through his hair. _

"_I'm taking my break." Ianto said as the assistant manager glided behind him, intent on filling out an order for another customer. The woman nodded, and then continued with her job. _

_Ianto walked into the back room and took off his apron, replacing it with his jacket that hung on the coat rack. He weaved his way through the boxes in the back until he found the rear exit. The cold wind hit him in the face as he entered the outside world. He was the only one in the back alley, and enjoyed the silence as he dug into his jacket pocket. His fingers closing over the wanted article, he pulled out the carton of cigarettes and chose one at random, his other hand grabbing his lighter and flicking it open. He brought the fag to his lips and took a deep drag, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of relief as the smoke calmed his nerves. He took a few more minutes to calm himself down, and then extinguished the cigarette. He really abhorred the habit, but it was the only thing that could successfully dissipate his nerves._

_He ran his hand through his hair again and took a deep breath to steel himself before re-entering the coffee shop._

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**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. One Date

**Author's Note: Wow, I had such a great response to this, I am so happy, thanks so much to all of my reviewers and silent stalkers, love you guys so much! This chapter is about twice as long as the first, I got a bit carried away. ^_^ You also get to learn who exactly it is in the coffin this time. Once again, I advice tissue warning, and fluff warning, cause the flashback in this chapter is 110% of it. Enjoy!**

**I'm on twitter and LJ as kausingkayn!**

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**Just One Date**

"_Attraction is not a choice" ~David DeAngelo_

After the viewing was over the funeral party moved to the room next door where a pedestal and lots of chairs were the only decorations. There was no priest for the last rites – neither the deceased nor his husband were much for religion. The people filtered into the room, sitting randomly among the offered chairs. No one really cared who they sat by, as long as there was a body near them to grieve with. Most of the people in the room had prepared eulogies – there were so many memories that needed to be sharing. It would be a long day, sitting in that room, listening to good times being dredged up from the soul – it would be a good cleansing session, almost. A time to forget about the past months and think back to a time where there was none of the death that was silently hanging over their heads.

Toshiko Sato was the first to speak.

She was one of Ianto's friends – most of Jack's relatives that were at the funeral had never met her before, only heard of her. She was small and shy, gripping the pedestal with a vice-like hold. She had to clear her throat several times and stuttered over her first few words before getting on track. Her face was pale and there were tearstains running down her cheeks. She glanced around the room, looking at everything – nothing. She stopped, coughed a few times and wiped away her tears. Then, she started from the beginning.

She had written down exactly what she was going to say, but by the time the first word slipped from between her lips, she abandoned her carefully thought out words and spoke from the heart. "Jack Harkness-Jones was one of the most amazing men I have ever met."

She paused, closing her eyes, fighting off another wave of tears. "H-he was everything that one could ask for in a friend, and more. I didn't know him personally all that long – mostly from Ianto's constant texts and phone calls. I didn't actually meet him until…but I feel like I knew him a lot longer before then."

She gave a small smile as a particularly good memory entered her mind, and she grabbed onto that. She had planned on talking about the first time she had actually met the man, but this was much better – and a lot happier. "I remember the first time Ianto had ever called me about him, I was in London, working with a small think tank at the time. I was in the middle of programming a nasty computer software program when my phone rang…"

"_Tosh!" Ianto said in a whisper, his hands fumbling with the phone after the woman's voice answered instead of her voicemail. It had been a while since they had actually talked – she had been bogged down with work and odd hours, Ianto always seeming to miss the windows of opportunity. But this situation couldn't wait for an email or text reply._

"Ianto, are you ok? What is it?"_ He normally didn't call unannounced like this unless it was an emergency. The man was very big on schedules, and they would email back and forth several times before determining the best time that both of them would be available for talking._

"_Jack just asked me out." Ianto said, his words all stringing together as he forgot to breathe. His hands were shaking, and his clothes suddenly felt way too tight. He stuck his finger down his collar and pulled, mentally cursing the dress code for his workplace. _

"Jack – you mean movie-star-good-looks Jack? From your work?_" Toshiko asked, excitement leaking into her voice. _

_Ianto just groaned and nodded, forgetting for a moment that Tosh couldn't see him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall of the coffee-store's back room. "No, the other Jack that I've been telling you about."_

"Well, you said yes, right?" _She asked, and Ianto heard her take in a large breath, then hold it, awaiting his response._

"_I…yeah, kinda." She squealed into the phone, jumping in happiness, ignoring the strange looks she was getting from her co-workers. Ianto had been texting her about this fellow almost every day and they had been emailing about him for weeks. _

_Ianto cursed the man and his own bloody nerves. Why did he have to pick _this_ coffee shop to get his daily caffeine, of all places? He showed up, every day at sporadic times – yet always managing to arrive during one of Ianto's shifts. He ordered the same bloody thing, gave him that same grin and wink, and joked with him about his nametag before taking his coffee. Some days he would leave after receiving his drink, others he would migrate to the corner of the room and pull a laptop out of his bag. Those days drove Ianto crazy, and he had found himself taking more frequent smoking breaks in order to keep his nerves in line._

_And then, it happened. Randomly, out of the blue, like a piece of the sky falling and hitting Chicken Little on the head._

"_Same as always, sir?" Ianto had asked, not quiet meeting Jack's eyes. The man leaned on the small space next to the cash register and stared at the Welshman, his eyes clouded in thought. Ianto felt his cheeks warming up and was about to rephrase the question when Jack spoke._

"_Are you free Friday night, Jones?" He asked, pushing off of the counter and sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. _

_The question caught Ianto off guard, and he swallowed, stuttering. "S-sorry?"_

_Jack shrugged. "You. Me. Friday?"_

_Ianto froze, his brain trying desperately to tell the rest of him that he had just been asked on a date by the most gorgeous man to ever live. He tried to breathe, telling himself that he wouldn't be any good if he passed out from oxygen deprivation. His lungs started to work again. "I-I got to work."_

_Jack raised his eyebrow then followed Ianto along the other side of the counter as the man attempted to make coffee. His hands had other ideas, and he resorted to re-organizing the cups – again. _

"_Next week, then?" Jack asked. Ianto risked a glimpse of the man's face and instantly regretted it. His eyes were enchanting._

"_I don't know….." Ianto said lamely, mentally kicking himself. 'Just say yes already!' his mind was screaming. However, his mouth seemed to want to work against him, and his tongue kept getting stuck on the roof of his mouth. He tried to escape, making a move for the 'employee only' door._

"_Wait." Jack said, and Ianto found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move. "Just one date."_

_Ianto turned then, getting lost in the man's eyes. "Just one?" He found himself asking._

_Jack nodded. "Just one. Then I'll never ask again."_

_Ianto wanted to say something. He wanted to laugh and ask why on earth he would never want to see him again. He wanted to jump up and down and giggle like a little school girl. He wanted to come up with some kind of witty retort that would cause Jack to show those pearly whites and the laugh lines that Ianto realized the man had. He wanted to stop acting like such a jittery fool. But all he did was give a close-mouthed smile. "Friday." Then he barged through the door and collapsed against the wall, shaking as his fingers scrambled for his phone._

_**--xXx--**_

_For Ianto Jones, Friday couldn't have come any sooner._

_He had the late shift on Friday, and was going to be whisked away by Jack as soon as he had taken his apron off – words from the man himself._

_He had spent that morning on a video chat with Tosh, going through his well-organized closet and pulling out outfit after outfit, desperate to find something that would impress the man, yet not make him look too desperate. _

_He had finally settled on a white dress shirt – the top three buttons undone – tucked into his jeans. Tosh had convinced him to put on a loosely-tied tie and a black waistcoat to match – unbuttoned as well, of course. He hadn't wanted to, thinking it made him look too old, but the reaction he got from Tosh when he re-entered the room was enough to make him leave it on. Even some of his co-workers made comments when he entered the coffee shop that afternoon._

_The clock seemed to be ticking slower than usual, and Ianto was unable to stop himself from glancing at it every couple seconds. That, and the addition of it being a very slow morning, caused Ianto to want to pull out his hair by the time seven rolled around._

_True to his word, Jack showed up about fifteen minutes before, ordering his usual then settling down in his corner to wait. _

_Finally, the clock struck seven, and Ianto was out of his apron as fast as his shaking hands would let him. He was extremely nervous, and sent Tosh a quick 'here it goes' text before stepping out of the safety of the employee room and into the hazardous world that was Jack._

_A low whistle came from the corner of the café, and Ianto was unable to hide the blush that had spread on his cheeks. He sent up a silent thanks to Tosh._

"_Someone cleans up good." Jack remarked, standing up from his chair and placing his hands on his hips, not hiding his movements as his eyes raked Ianto's body._

_The Welshman just let out a soft cough, then gestured toward the door. "Let's go."_

_Jack raised an eyebrow then nodded, turning his back as he made his way to the door. Ianto followed behind, pulling on his coat as he stepped into the cold outside world. He was tempted to bring out his cigarettes, but quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind – he was on a bloody date, he didn't need to smoke. He tried to calm himself down – deep, easy breaths. He felt a vibration in his pocket, and pulled out his phone without thinking. It was from Tosh, telling him 'good luck' and wanting to hear about it later. _

_Ianto gave a warm smile at her words, and jumped as he felt a hot breath on his neck._

"_Cheating on me already?" Jack asked, the man leaning over, trying to catch a glimpse of Ianto's text. He blushed even more furiously and fumbled as he tried to close the phone. Jack laughed and leaned back, giving Ianto his personal space back. "I'm kidding."_

"_Yeah," Ianto mumbled back, giving a strained smile._

_Jack watched him for a second then let out a sigh. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"_

'_Hell yes!' Ianto's brain screamed. Of course he was uncomfortable – this was the first date he had been on in a while, and he was already screwing it up by being such a bundle of nerves. "No –" Ianto started, then contradicted himself as he looked at Jack. The man looked genuinely worried, and he even saw a small bit of nerves in there. That made something in Ianto click – Jack was nervous. Maybe not as nervous as he was, but even a little was enough. "– well, a little."_

_Jack chuckled at this, then dug into his satchel, bringing out a set of car keys. "No reason to be – I don't bite…at least, not uninvited." He gave a smirk, and Ianto choked a little bit. Another laugh, and then Jack pressed on the unlock button on his keys. The black SUV that was parked a few feet away blinked at them, its doors now invitingly unlocked. _

_Jack started to walk towards it, then turned and looked back, noticing that Ianto was still standing in the spot that he left him. "Not bailing on me now, are you, Jones?"_

_There was a light humour in his words, and Ianto gave a smile – genuine this time. "Coming."_

_Jack's car was comfortable and roomy on the inside. Ianto could stretch out his legs without feeling cramped, and if he were to scoot his seat all the way up, the back could be large enough to sleep in. Ianto blushed at the thought and Jack noticed this, chuckling when he realized what Ianto was thinking about. _

_Ianto loved that chuckle. He had only heard it a couple times, and already his heart leapt at the sound. He marveled at the fact that is was _him_ that was causing that sound to come from Jack's lips, and in a moment of bravery, he wondered what other sounds he could possibly elicit in the future._

"_So," Jack said, bringing Ianto out from his dangerous thoughts. "I guess we should get to know each other, right? You're from around here, obviously – those beautiful welsh vowels aren't something you can learn."_

"_Wales." Ianto found himself saying. "Moved to Cardiff a few years back for Uni."_

_Jack made an understanding noise. "What are you majoring in?"_

_Ianto shrugged. "Didn't. Dropped out a few months ago. Nothing I was interested in."_

_Jack turned to stare at him, his jaw gaping slightly. "Nothing? Come on, everyone is passionate about _something._"_

_Ianto just shrugged and shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "What about you?"_

_Jack noticed the subtle shift from Ianto to himself, but didn't do anything about it. "Journalism – creative writing mostly, and art. But I graduated a couple years ago."_

_Ianto nodded politely, and then the silence returned to the SUV. Ianto couldn't tell whether it was uncomfortable or not. Then, he realized something. "I don't know your last name."_

"_Hmm?" Jack said, missing the question._

_Ianto swallowed, and then tried again. "Last name."_

"_Ah, yes." Jack said, grinning. "Harkness, if you must know."_

_Jack Harkness. There was a nice ring to it. Ianto tried it out, mouthing the two words, loving the way they rolled right off the tongue. Jack noticed this, and that chuckle that Ianto loved once again filled his ears._

"_So, Mr. Jones, what do you like on your pizza?" Jack asked, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other was thrust into his satchel sitting on the divider, searching for his cell phone._

_Pizza? "Um, doesn't matter. Whatever you're having." Ianto managed to get out. His first date with Jack involved ordering pizza? Ianto really hadn't been sure what to expect from the man, but pizza definitely wasn't at the top of his mind. Ianto ate the stuff all too often, seeing that he lived by himself and was on the salary of a coffee boy. He couldn't afford eating out, and was such a horrible cook that anything other than coffee made by his hands wasn't even worthy of the trash can. But he stuck the thought into the back of his mind – he wouldn't allow himself to get hung up on pizza while there was a man like Jack sitting next to him._

"_Well, I hope you aren't scared of a little meat." Jack said with a wink as his hand from his phone up to his ear. "Yes, I'd like to order a large meat lovers…yeah…can I get some of those good cinnamon thingys too?...Harkness…. great, thanks."_

_He disconnected the call, and glanced back over to Ianto, who had zoned out through the window, eyes blurry as he watched all the scenery melt together. He had seen everything a thousand times before, yet was nervous about turning around to look at Jack. The man seemed to stare right into him…_

"_Ianto? I'm not that boring, am I?" Jack asked, reaching over with one hand to nudge him on the shoulder. Ianto started and glanced over, giving a small smile before sitting back up in his seat. "No – you're anything but boring – it's just…"_

_Then Jack's face screwed up and his eyes grew wide. "Oh god…you're straight, aren't you? Wouldn't be the first time _that_ happened."_

_And then Ianto was laughing. He showed the first real emotion other than nervousness since the first time they had met, and Jack inwardly gave a sigh of relief. "No, I'm not straight…not tonight, at least."_

_And Jack had to chuckle at that – it was unexpected, that little bit of humour from the man, and Ianto was surprised himself. Where had that come from? But it had gotten Jack to laugh, and Ianto started to let go and loosen up a bit, Maybe it would be a fun night after all._

_Then Jack started to tell the tale of his adventure with a man named Owen Harper and how he had flirted with him shamelessly for weeks, until he found out that the man was actually straight – in a relationship, even. And Ianto laughed some more._

"_So, instead of getting a boyfriend, I found a best friend." Jack finished as he pulled up in the parking lot of the pizza place. "Wait here."_

_Ianto nodded and settled down into the seat as Jack hopped out. Almost like an afterthought, Jack threw the keys back into the car, Ianto reaching out and instinctively catching them. This caused Jack to raise an eyebrow before waltzing into the store._

_Ianto's fingers automatically went to his pocket and took out his phone, his fingers flying over the keys as he quickly assembled a text to Tosh. He clicked the send button and stuffed the device back into his pocket. Easily bored, Ianto started to play with the car keys. He glanced at the radio, then stuck the keys into the car, twisting them only far enough for the radio to turn on._

_Jack had last been listening to the CD player, and Glen Miller came bursting out of the stereo. Shocked, Ianto was frozen in the spot for a moment, marveling over the fact that a man like Jack Harkness was listening to music like that. Then he moved to turn it down, his fingers itching to click through the rest of the CD's, wanting to know more about Jack. _

_He was so intent on the music that he didn't notice how Jack snuck over to the grocery store that was next to the pizza place, or how, when he returned, his satchel was relatively bigger than it had been before leaving the car. Jack gently lowered the bag into the back of the SUV and placed the pizza next to it before bringing the car to life, smiling as he listened to his music wash over the car. Ianto caught this smile, and returned one._

"_Ready to go?" Jack asked as he backed the SUV out of the parking lot. Ianto nodded and settled back into the seat, allowing the sound of Glen Miller and the scent of pizza and the presence of Jack calm him._

_They pulled up in front of a large building complex several minutes later. It was skinny and reached at least fifteen stories high. Ianto's head was buzzing just from glancing up. He thought they would just drive past it, and was surprised when Jack cut the engine. "Let's go!" He said, his voice full of excitement and mischief._

_Ianto – still confused – hopped out of the car and immediately pulled his jacket closer to his body, chilled by the sudden onslaught of wind. He watched as Jack pulled a heavy grey trench coat and slipped into it. Jack also grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulders. Ianto moved to help, grabbing the pizza box before Jack could argue. In truth, it was warm, and brought a little bit of feeling back into Ianto's cold fingers._

_They entered the building only to come face to face with the security guard. Instead of getting reprimanded for sneaking onto private property, however, they were greeted with a large smile and a manly hug for Jack. Ianto couldn't help but gawk as they struck up a conversation, and several minutes later the guard handed Jack a security pass._

"_Thanks Andy!" Jack called back as they made their way deeper into the building. He turned to Ianto once they were out of earshot and brought his voice down to a whisper. "Nice enough guy, Andy. Wants to be a proper constable."_

_Ianto raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The building was a bit warmer than outside, but not by much. And the cold air was bringing back his nerves. _

_They made their way to the elevator, where Jack slipped in the key card, then punched the button for the top floor. Ianto's stomach fell into his bottom as they rose. They made it in record time, the lift dinging softly before sliding open. _

_Jack took a deep breath then grinned as they entered the offices. "God, I love the office-y feel. So many secrets – it's erotic."_

_Ianto choked in surprise and stared at Jack, his jaw gaping a bit in response to the man's statement. _

_Jack saw this and laughed. "Don't worry; we're going up another floor."_

_He outstretched his hand, and Ianto realized after a moment that he was supposed to take it. He was hesitant, but finally reached out, his fingers curling around the other man's. Jack's hand was surprisingly warm and soft and Ianto shivered at the touch._

_Jack tugged on him, and together they climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back. Jack burst through the final door, giving them entrance to the roof._

_It was the most stunning sight that Ianto had ever seen in his life. The whole of Cardiff was outstretched beyond the building, laying there just for him, sparkling in the night sky. The stars twinkled above, giving way to their vast forever ness, stretching as far as eternity. Ianto gasped and stumbled back a few feet, unable to take in the sight. Jack caught him, pulling him closer. Ianto grasped the pizza box as he felt it start to slip through his fingers, his mind gone numb. Jack tugged on the box then sat it on the ground, pulling Ianto in close, plastering the Welshman's back into his chest as he held him tightly._

"_Beautiful, isn't it." Jack whispered into Ianto's ear. The younger man's breath quickened as he felt Jack's breath in his ear, and his world started to spin. The smell that hit his nostrils was overwhelming, and he blinked a few times. _

"_W-what is that?" He asked weakly, finally pulling himself away. Jack smirked, his eyes laughing. _

"_Cologne, you like?" Jack asked, and Ianto – not trusting himself with words – only nodded in agreement. His mouth had suddenly become very dry._

_Jack then got to work – he took off his jacket, despite the cold, and laid it on the ground. He then sat cross-legged on the trench coat and pulled the pizza box toward him. Jack patted the ground next to him, silently asking Ianto to join him. The man hesitated, then complied, sitting in the same style._

_They each took a piece, and for a moment did nothing more than chew, both silent with their own thoughts. Then Jack, becoming restless, sat his don in the box and rummaged in his bag. He withdrew the bottle of wine that he had gone and bought in the grocery store, along with two half-smashed plastic cups. He popped them back into shape, then proceeded in pulling the cap off. _

_Jack poured two cups and then handed one to Ianto. He took it, his hands obviously trembling as he did so, and the wine inside swishing in jerked movements. Jack noticed this._

"_Cold?" He asked, concern in his voice._

"_L-little bit." Ianto relented, the stuttering only partially due to the temperature. Jack smirked then once again wormed his hands around Ianto's waist, scooting him closer. They sat like that, molded against each other, alternating between sipping on wine and munching on rapidly cooling pizza. _

"_You up here a lot?" Ianto finally asked, finding himself comfortable in Jack's arms. The man was surprisingly warm, and his body heat was keeping any cold at bay. _

_Jack laughed, and the feeling vibrated all throughout Ianto's body. "More than most. I come up here when I need some time alone, mostly – first time I've brought anyone up here."_

"_Why me?" Ianto asked, the words slipping out before he had time to censor them. He covered his humiliation with a large gulp of wine. He didn't want to ask that – why did he ask that? What if Jack thought about it, then realized that there was no particular reason why. He was gorgeous, could have any man or woman that he chose – yet he asked Ianto on a date._

_Jack shrugged. "Why not?" He saw the fallen look on Ianto's face, and rushed to complete the sentence. "You're cute – no, handsome, make a hell of a coffee." He paused. "And there is something about you, Ianto Jones. Something that draws me toward you…like an _addiction._"_

_The last word was mumbled into his ear, so close that Jack's lips softly caressed Ianto's ear. The Welshman did something then – something so sudden and rash and in-the-moment that after it was over, he couldn't fathom how he had chalked up enough courage to do it._

_Ianto Jones kissed him._

_All he had to do was turn his head a little and their lips connected. The first one was soft, just a short, chaste kiss – nothing more than a brush. Ianto pulled back, his eyes unfocused, heart scared to beat again. He felt Jack's breath in his face, smelled that bloody cologne. _

_Then his thoughts were lost once again as Jack leaned forward, connecting their lips once again. This one was longer, deeper. He felt Jack's hands pulling him closer, pushing their bodies together, wrapping them into a heated embrace. Jack's tongue teased his lips, poking a hole in his defenses. _

_Ianto's mouth was alive with the flavor of Jack – heat, sex, that taste that coats your tongue when you walk into an old section of a library – all that and more, swirling around, overpowering him._

_And then Jack pulled back, and they both sat there, gasping for breath. Jack's hand had made it's way to Ianto's chest, and he was playing with one of the buttons, twisting it, pulling on it. Ianto glanced into Jack's eyes and gave a weak smile, still recovering. _

_Jack laughed and leaned forward – Ianto prepared himself for another gravity-defying kiss. Yet all he got was a chaste one, and then the warmth was gone again. Then Jack fell backwards and stretched out, pulling Ianto down with him and cuddling close. For the rest of the night, no words were spoken – they just gazed at the stars._

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	3. Sleep Over

**Author's Note: I think that I'm going to update this every other week instead of every week - I'm trying to keep updates regular, but you guys know that I suck at that. ^_^ Thanks to my reviewers and silent stalkers, I love you guys! Also, special thanks to my beta, SiriusDoctorWhoHoney319.**

**Follow me on twitter and LiveJournal as kausingkayn.**

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**"Sleep Over"**

_"He's the exception that proves the rule." - Anonymous_

Throughout the procession, there was a man that stood near the back of the crowd. He hunched over, trying to keep to himself – he didn't know many who were there – the only one that mattered was past the point of conversation. He had approached the coffin when it was open for viewing. He had cried then, and cursed the tears. He wasn't supposed to be weak like that – he was Owen bloody Harper for damn's sake. But he hadn't wiped them away.

He was tall and skinny – nothing much to him. He wore black clothes to signify mourning, yet those who knew him would have known that it was something that he could have worn Monday when going to the grocery store. He wasn't much one for color.

He had caught the attention of a few of the mourners. They gave him looks of contemptment, none of them knowing that he was the best friend of the deceased. And he let them look and whisper and come up with all kinds of stories as to why he was at the funeral – because in all honesty, he didn't give a care. He was there for Jack, and that was all that mattered.

He wandered the viewing room, glancing through the photographs. A small smile sprung to his lips as he took in the happier times. That was what they were showing here, memories of the better days. But Owen knew that the _happiest_ times were not the ones caught on film. It was every moment in between.

He came to pictures of the wedding – Jack standing there as proud as he could be, Ianto next to him, looking as nervous as ever, but as deep in love as a person could get. And there he was, standing next to the older groom, giving the camera his signature I-don't-wanna-be-here look. It wasn't true, of course. He would have given the world to be there at that time for his friend, but no one needed to know that.

He moved on to the books, faintly hearing the eulogies start in the room next door, and realized that he was alone. He shrugged it off, and continued his trip down memory lane. They wouldn't want to hear anything he had to say anyway. Most of those people in the other room hadn't been there with Jack in his last days. Hadn't seen the pain he had gone through, hadn't spent sleepless nights with Ianto because his husband was unable to properly comfort him – _that_ was what mattered.

Owen glared at the large pictures portraying Jack and sneered. "Bloody bastard, why did you have to leave him, huh? Broke his damn heart."

He ran his hand over the hardback books, wondering how many eyes would glance over the print and just throw them away, not even giving Jack the decency of reading the first chapter or so. How many people would actually read it, and become mesmerized by his captivating words? How many people would Jack Harkness live on within? Owen knew that that number would never be less than two.

"_Owen – seriously." Jack pleaded, his hands folded in mock prayer, his head cocked slightly to the side and he was doing that thing with his lips that made one think of a puppy dog. _

_But Harper, who was used to Jack's begging, shrugged it off with a grumble. "I've got plans!"_

"_To stay in the apartment." Jack said flatly, his hands dropping to his side, his begging act leaving. He knew that Owen was just playing around with him – wanted to irk Jack, get him angry. The man could be _so_ annoying._

_Owen just shrugged and collapsed on the couch, grabbing for the remote, but not turning on the television. "What's so great about this bloke anyway?"_

_Jack leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Owen watched this with a slightly disturbed look on his face. "He's amazing – nervous all the time, it's so cute. And he's got this great sense of humour…hot ass too."_

_Owen snorted and turned his attention back to the blank television. "From how you describe him, he sounds like a bloody introvert." He ignored the daggers that Jack's eyes were shooting at him. "Anyway – why so much preparation? Bring 'em somewhere with a comfortable bed, fuck him, then part ways – love 'em then leave 'em."_

_Jack rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and settling in to glare at his flat mate. "Says the man halfway through the process of moving in with his girlfriend - " He gestured to the packed boxes sitting near the door. " – and it's not like that."_

"_Oh, come on Jack. It's not like I don't know that you've been foolin' around with the prick for the past couple weeks – I actually _do _notice when you get back late." Owen pointed out, abandoning the television and pulling himself to his feet, his fingers tugging on the edge of his shirt. He treaded slowly into the kitchen, opening the fridge and bent over, rummaging through the contents._

_Jack made a pointed effort to stare at Owen's backside, snickering – knowing that it would piss the other man off. "What makes you think that every relationship I have revolves around sex?"_

_Owen stood up at this, a small cup of yogurt in his hands. He dug through the silverware drawer, bringing out a plastic spoon. He made his way back to the couch in silence, sitting down with a plop, his mouth forming into an 'O' as he came to the conclusion that Jack had been subtly hinting at. "You two haven't shagged yet."_

_Jack's uncomfortable shifting gave the man the answer he needed, and Owen started to laugh. "Oh my god. Someone call the press. Jack bloody Harkness has been dating for weeks without getting' some!"_

"_Shut it." Jack grumbled, plopping down next to Owen and giving him a good thwack on the head._

_Owen expressed loudly his opinion of the physical contact, then continued grinning, giving Jack the shiftiest look possible. Then, the skinny man leaned in close, and a single word was whispered. "Whipped."_

_Jack growled and punched Owen hard in the shoulder. The man yelped and shot up off the couch, laughing as he made a quick exit. He stuck his head back through the apartment door for a quick second, sticking his tongue out. He ducked back out quicker that thought possible, however, when Jack's shoe came after him._

"_And don't come back!" Jack yelled after him, chuckling to himself before turning and heading toward the kitchen, immersing himself into the preparations for that night._

_**--xXx--**_

_Ianto couldn't remember a time that he was ever as nervous as he was now. His fifth grade graduation was a cakewalk compared to this, and coming out to his parents – and his girlfriend – seemed like a walk in the park. Because at that moment, Ianto thought that his hands were going to shake right off of his body, that his feet were going to forget how to walk, and his heart would just give out._

_He reached slowly into his trench coat pocket, taking twice as long as usual to withdraw the cigarettes. He had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk to concentrate, and it took several tries to actually light the damn thing. The moment he stuck it in his mouth and began to take a long drag he felt calmer – but only just. He resumed his slow pace again, walking toward what was the most looked-forward to and dreaded night of his life._

_Jack had invited him to his flat for dinner. He wanted to cook for him. Of course, the offer itself was innocent and more than slightly romantic. But the underlying demand was there, and that was what Ianto was so caught up about. Because when a guy invited you over to his flat for dinner, it would be more accurate for him to just come out and say "I'm getting bored and wanna have sex with you."_

_Ianto was surprised – actually, that Jack hadn't pressured him earlier. They had been going on dates for the better part of a month, and – all innuendo and suggestive looks aside – Jack had been rather calm. They had participated in several snog fests – Ianto would never look at the broom cupboard at his work or the old book closet where Jack worked the same again – and the occasional grope, but the older man had never once seriously asked. Until now, that is._

_And Ianto didn't want to loose him. He didn't want to have to let go of Jack, not yet. He couldn't. In the past few weeks, he had been able to cut down his cigarette intake in _half_, and found that he could talk about anything around the man. Ianto could truly be himself. It wasn't only that, though. It was the way that Jack made him feel – like he was important, special, something other than the worthless coffee boy that everyone told him he was. Ianto wasn't willing to say it out loud, but he had found himself thinking it after every date – he was falling in love._

_But he was still scared about having sex._

_That was one thing that he hadn't told Jack about himself – he had never slept with a man before – scratch that, _anyone_ before. Fooled around, yeah. But actually finish the deed? Ianto had never been able to do it. Atmosphere wasn't right, or the person wasn't worth it. And Ianto was scared that if he told Jack that, the man would loose interest, and just dump him._

_The thoughts caused Ianto to almost drop his cigarette, and he cursed to himself, taking another really long drag. He pulled his coat closer and continued on his way. The bookstore was only a few blocks further away, and he was already going to be a few minutes late. Ianto went to grab his phone, but hesitated. Would it seem weird if he called just to say that he would be a couple minutes late? Maybe he should cancel – come up with some random excuse. Tosh in town, maybe? Ianto shook himself out of those thoughts, Jack would find out eventually._

_Ianto flicked his now useless cigarette into a rubbish bin as he passed, pausing only long enough to light up another. He had had the whole day off, and he spent the majority of the morning cleaning his flat, re-moving the furniture, making to-do lists – tidying up overall. Then he had sat down and wrote in his journal before re-reading his Jack ones. At first, Ianto had taken to writing about Jack in his regular, day-to-day diaries. However, as time passed, Ianto spent the money on buying a special one just for the man. Since then, he had almost filled the entire thing up with new facts and tidbits about the man – including the short story about why he was living in Cardiff while having an American accent. _

_Time to meet the American came all too soon, and Ianto had found himself buttoning up his coat with a small sense of dread filling in the pit of his stomach. That, and his nerves growing steadily greater. _

_The lettering of Jack's work place greeted Ianto when he turned the corner, and he quickly stubbed out what was left of his cigarette. He took a few large, calming breathes, then entered the store._

_The smell of old books and the taste of heavy, dust-filled air hit Ianto as soon as he stepped inside. The store was small, and every inch of floor and wall space was covered in books. The shelves sat closely together, only enough room for a man with narrow shoulders to fit through without having to turn. The front desk was so covered in stacks that, unless someone pointed it out specifically, one wouldn't be able to find it._

_A familiar head poked out from behind one of the many overburdened shelves, followed by the rest of it's body. Jack's smiling face approached Ianto, and leaned in for a quick kiss. Ianto's body automatically molded into the other man's, and he found his nerves washing away far more effectively than the nicotine was able to. It ended all too soon, and Jack's face was now supporting a small frown. It disappeared quickly, however, and the man's eyes once again lit up. "Ready to go?"_

_Ianto nodded, and Jack's fingers reached out to entwine with his as the man called out to his boss. "Doctor, I'm leaving with that cute young Welshman that I told you I'm going to run away with!"_

"_Don't come back without a story!" A voice shot back from somewhere deep within the store. _

_Jack chuckled and released Ianto's hand only long enough to pull on his warm coat. He re-connected their fingers as he pushed out of the door, away from the warmth and coziness of the bookstore and into the cold wilderness of Cardiff._

_Jack breathed in a healthy gulp of air as he walked, and Ianto moved a little closer. He never liked the cold like Jack seemed to – although seeing how much heat the man radiated, Ianto guessed he could run around naked in the dead of winter and still not feel the effect._

"_Why do you call him Doctor?" Ianto asked. Jack had called him that since the first time Ianto had visited the store, but he never asked why._

_Jack turned his eyes to look at him, then gave a small smirk. "He likes the 'Book Doctor.' Can fix anything with a cover. I call him that to annoy him."_

_That sounded like Jack. They got to the SUV a few minutes later; Jack had to park a while away since his store didn't have any private parking, and he had taken the later shift that day. Ianto hopped into the passenger's seat and relaxed, making himself comfortable as Jack pumped up the heat. They sat there for a few moments, allowing the engine to warm so that they could drive. They both shed their coats after a few minutes, then threw them into the back seat._

"_Hope you like pasta." Jack said teasingly. _

_Ianto smirked. "As long as it's not the long and skinny kind." The combination of smoking, Jack's kiss, and warmth had slowly chipped away at Ianto's nerves._

_Jack laughed and reached over, stroking Ianto's cheeks softly with his thumb. "Your cheeks are red." He said. Ianto blushed, adding to the color, causing the American to elicit another chuckle._

_Jack glanced at the dashboard, his eyes lighting up as he read the dials. "He's all warmed up and ready to go."_

_Ianto raised an eyebrow at this – never heard Jack call his car by a gender before. Jack just shrugged. "What – I wouldn't want to be inside of a woman all the time."_

_And this time, Ianto laughed._

_**--xXx--**_

_If Ianto could have used one word to describe Jack's flat, he would have used 'home.' Because it had that look to it – that it was more than a place suitable for living. There was hints of Jack and his roommate everywhere, from the mismatched furniture to the untidy stack of DVD's that sat next to the television. The only thing that didn't make sense was the boxes that were neatly packed and waiting by the door to be whisked away. _

"_Moving?" Ianto asked as he stuck his hands deep into his jean pockets, unable to find a better place for them. _

"_Owen, my roommate. Moving to his girlfriend's place across town." Jack said from the kitchen, where he had disappeared to as soon as they entered. The man's head now poked out of the open doorway. "Come on."_

_He withdrew back into the kitchen, and Ianto awkwardly followed. He felt out of place in this messy, yet organized state of living – if that made any sense. _

"_You ok?" Jack asked, and Ianto nodded without thinking about the question. Sure, he was ok, he just felt nervous and out of place and had no idea what to do._

"_I know that nod. That's your 'I don't wanna say anything' nod. Come on, Yan." Jack said as he reached into the cupboard, pulling out plates for the pasta, which he had cooked earlier that day. He then dove into the fridge and started to pull out all the extras to go with the dinner. _

_Ianto sighed and retreated further into his clothes. "It's just…I've never…been cooked for…dunno what to do."_

_Jack chuckled, and reached forward, grabbing Ianto's arm and pulling him in closer, laying a soft kiss on his forehead. "If you wanted to help, you could of just asked instead of getting all shaky on me." _

_Ianto took his hands out of his pockets, and true to Jack's word, they were shaking. He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to calm down. But, unlike their usual effects, Jack's scent and his closeness was only causing him more stress. "I – bathroom?"_

"_Huh?" Jack asked, worry in his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Down the hall, second door."_

_Ianto gave a small smile and nodded. Misreading Jack's worry for annoyance, he tried to fix it, planting a soft kiss on his lips before retreating. _

_He left the small entrance and walked down the short hallway. The first door was slightly open portraying a bedroom that was stripped bare – the walls sported holes that showed where frames used to hang and the floor had patches of discoloration, giving away the spots where furniture used to sit. There were several packed boxes that matched those sitting by the door – the only thing left was a small bed, which was still made. Ianto continued on quickly, feeling awkward imposing on Jack's roommate's private place._

_He got to where the second door was located, but paused. For there were two doors, each on one side of the hall, both located in almost the same spot. Which one was he supposed to go into? Ianto hesitated, then pushed through the one on his right._

_And walked into someplace that definitely was _not_ a bathroom._

_It was a small study, a desk too large for the room squished up against the far wall, it's ancient antique oak standing out against the other furniture Ianto had seen. It was covered with papers blotched with typing ink. There was a small personal printer that seemed out of place among the papers, and a rectangular spot on top of the desk void of anything – it must have been where Jack kept his computer._

_But the desk was barely cluttered compared to the rest of the room. For the walls were covered in hundreds of sheets of paper, all tacked on with thumbnails or even staples. Some of them carried words – half written poems or the beginnings of some story or another. Others were the canvas for a sketch, may it be flowers or a random chair or even the parts of a face. There was not a single inch of wall to be seen between the clutter. The floor was the same way, organized in chaotic stacks of printed-paper. Some of them had title pages, while others jumped right in. Ianto glanced at the words starting the pile closest to him and found it starting in the middle of a sentence. _

_His curiosity piqued, Ianto ventured further into the room, awed by the marvelous view surrounding him. His fingers itched to touch it all, organize it. Shelves, maybe. Filing cabinets. His nerves left him as he began to think about all the possibilities. Then, even those thoughts flew away._

_For posted directly above the desk was a finished sketch – the first completed piece of work that Ianto had seen. And it was his face. _

_It must have been one of the days that Jack was sitting in the corner of the café, because Ianto recognized the blank look on his face. It was the one he adopted when he was halfway through a shift and desperately wanted to be somewhere else. The picture captured everything about him, if it hadn't of been so rough, Ianto might have thought that he was looking into a mirror._

"_Like it?"_

_Ianto jumped and turned, his eyes wide, his face quickly turning red. "Jack! I – I didn't – I mean…"_

_He drifted off, thoroughly embarrassed to be caught in the middle of what was obviously a very private place of Jack's. But when Ianto looked into the other man's eyes, he didn't see anger. Just indecisiveness. _

"_You like it?" Jack asked, nodding toward the sketch. It was then that Ianto noticed the other man was carrying two glasses of red wine. Suddenly in need of some alcohol, Ianto took a tentative step forward. Jack outstretched his hand and Ianto completed the journey, taking the glass from his hand and sipping it experimentally. It was good, so he took some more._

"_Jack, it's…" Ianto breathed, unable to come up with a proper word, so he settled with "perfect." He heard as Jack let out a large breath, and Ianto realized that the American had been nervous about whether or not he would like it. "What is all of this?" He asked._

"_My life." Jack said, a hint of pride leaking into his words. "This, Ianto Jones, is my legacy."_

_Jack stepped further into the room, standing in the middle of the floor, turning, taking it all in for what must have been the millionth time. "All of the books I started to write, all my drawings, muses, thoughts, regrets. It's all here."_

_Ianto's breath was taken away as he listened to Jack speak, the pride and raw emotion that filtered through the American's words was awe-inspiring. "Why…" He ventured, hesitating. "…is nothing….finished?"_

_Jack's face fell a bit, then he shrugged, the moment passing. "Never had the right kind of inspiration, I guess. I've sent a few pieces off to publishers, but they wont sign anything until I give them finished product."_

_Then he glanced at Ianto and a soft, genuine smile lit up his entire face. "Dinner's ready." The American grazed past Ianto on his way out of the room, intentionally brushing up against the Welshman. Ianto chuckled, and took one last look around the room before following Jack. It didn't escape his attention that the drawing of him was the only finished thing in the room._

_**--xXx--**_

_Dinner passed rather quickly, the food being so wonderful. Ianto had been instantly jealous, and had quickly told Jack that. The man was positively beaming from all the praise, and Ianto had found himself shedding the uncomfortablness within minutes of sitting down._

_They had surpassed the table for a more intimate setting, Jack insisting that they sat on the floor and used the low coffee table for resting their plates. So they sat on the floor, using the large couch as a backrest, leaning against each other as they ate. Their wine glasses sat on the coffee table with the bottle, and soon after were replaced by their empty bowls. _

_Ianto took another sip of his wine and shifted a bit, his arm that was pressing against Jack's falling asleep. Jack moved as well, and entwined their fingers, threading them together. Ianto smiled, feeling happier than he had ever been in a long time. "Tell me about your stories."_

"_Hmm?" Jack asked lazily, swirling the red liquid around in his glass. _

"_Your writing. I want to hear about it." Ianto murmured. _

"_It's all boring, honest." Jack said, his thumb starting to draw circles on his glass. _

_Ianto rolled his eyes and sat up, disconnecting himself from Jack and crossing his arms. "I'm sure." He said dryly._

_Jack chuckled, loving this side of the Welshman. "Well, there is this one that I'm working on."_

"_Really?" Ianto asked, automatically interested._

_Jack nodded. "Yeah. It's about this dashing Captain and his devilishly handsome assistant." _

"_Go on." Ianto said, moving back to his previous position. The wine and calmness of the atmosphere was lulling him into security and sleepiness. _

"_Well, the Captain is the leader of this force of World War II soldiers, and he leads them into many battles, looses lots of men, but always making it out by the skin of his teeth. At the end of the day he goes back to his barracks and gets a warm cup of coffee and a soft kiss behind closed doors from his assistant." Jack explained, watching Ianto, wanting to know the man's reaction. _

_Ianto frowned a little bit, a small crease forming in his forehead. "But, wasn't that illegal then?"_

"_MmmHmm." Jack answered, smiling. "But to the Captain, it was worth every moment."_

_And then Ianto closed his eyes and smiled, and felt Jack's warm breath on his face, followed by the now-familiar feeling of Jack's lips on his. _

_Ianto let go of his wine glass, gently and carefully setting it onto the rug before shifting for a better angle. He parted his lips and allowed Jack to take control. Hundreds of colors burst behind eyelids as their tongues met, and Ianto let out a soft moan. He felt Jack's hands firmly on either side of his face, and Ianto's own hands struggled to get around the man's waist._

_Ianto slipped and grunted as he found himself falling forward, hitting Jack's chest with a grunt. He opened his eyes and found that Jack was lying beneath him on the floor, himself splayed on top of the American. They lay there, breathing heavily for a few seconds, hearts beating erratically. _

_Then Ianto dipped his head down and connected their lips once again. This time, the kiss was heated – needing. The pure force of the connection caused Ianto's head to spin, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his back, the American straddling his hips, fingers inching up his shirt. Ianto's own hands started to explore Jack's chest, slipping under his shirt and onto his hard, muscle-toned chest._

_Jack broke the kiss and Ianto made a soft sound that seemed almost like a whine. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into bright blue ones that teemed with lust. Jack broke the gaze and sat up, pulling his shirt off before grabbing the edges of Ianto's. The Welshman did nothing to stop him, and suddenly both of them were shirtless. Jack's fingers played with the dark hair that decorated Ianto's chest, gasping as Ianto reached up and grabbed the back of Jack's head and pulled him into another kiss._

_They stayed like that a few minutes longer, both of them re-acquainting themselves with the other's upper body. It was when Jack started to undo Ianto's belt, though, that the young man hesitated._

"_Jack…" He managed to gasp out, the indecision and nervousness from earlier that evening crashing back into him like a typhoon. _

_The American stopped and glanced up, frowning as he saw the fear in Ianto's eyes and how he had started to shake again. "Ianto, what's wrong?"_

_He sat up and rolled off the top of Ianto, sitting up and ignoring what his body was screaming for. Jack took the younger man's hands in his own in attempt to stop their erratic movement. "Ianto?"_

_Ianto sat up as well, biting his bottom lip and tugging his hands out from Jack's grasp. His unsteady fingers reached for his shirt, but Jack stopped him. Ianto let out a shaky breath and forced himself to look into Jack's face. He told himself that he was being stupid, irrational. He _wanted_ Jack, he really did. But he couldn't stop his mind from going into panic mode. Not when he had just drunk a bottle of wine and was in Jack's apartment and… "I – I'm sorry…"_

_Jack frowned and pulled Ianto in close, hugging him, ignoring the need for a desperately cold shower. "Sorry for what?"_

"_I…I just can't…haven't" Ianto stuttered, hating how he wasn't able to form coherent thoughts._

"_Haven't…" Jack drifted off as his mind clicked the puzzle pieces into place. "Ianto." He said, pulling the man far enough away to look him dead in the eye. "We don't have to…if you don't want to, you know."_

_Ianto frowned as he heard Jack's words. The doubts that had been whispering loudly in his ear became a little softer, as the American dispelled any facts that had been holding them up. Jack hadn't pushed him away, or yelled, or forced. He had said ok. The rational fears became irrational, giving Ianto a little control over his thoughts. "It's just…I do want to…but…"_

"_I said it's ok, Ianto. Really." Then Jack unwrapped his arms from around Ianto's stomach and stood up, grabbing his t-shirt and throwing it back on. "I'm going to take a shower, clean up, then we can watch a movie or something. Don't disappear on me." _

_He leaned over and planted one last kiss on Ianto's forehead before leaving the room. Ianto sat there, his trembling fingers fighting to pull his shirt back over his head. He then ran his hands through his hair and brushed off all the invisible lint from his shirt. Desperately needing to either go outside for a smoke, or clean something, Ianto started to pick up the dinner plates and take them into the kitchen. He didn't want to go outside, fearing that Jack would come back and think he had left. _

_Ianto turned on the water and started to scrub the dishes. Slowly, his hands stopped shaking and his heartbeat slowed to its natural rhythm. The invading thoughts slowly slipped away, and he was left with just himself again._

_He was so intent on cleaning up, that he didn't hear Jack as he entered the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower, and his clothes changed into something more comfortable – a white t-shirt and a pair of sweats. "Ianto, I think they're clean."_

_The second time that night Ianto jumped due to Jack's account. He glanced down and realized that the American was right – everything in the sink was already clean. Ianto coughed and turned off the water, leaning his back against the sink and hugging himself as he looked at Jack. _

"_I'm sorry. That I ruined tonight." Ianto said awkwardly._

_Jack shook his head. "You didn't. _I_ had a great time." He stepped forward, reaching out to take Ianto's hand. The Welshman barely hesitated before returning the gesture and Jack pulled him in, giving his a chaste kiss on the lips. "I don't know about you, but I'm too tired for a movie."_

"_I…I guess I'll be going then." Ianto said, pulling away. But Jack's strong arm around his waist stopped him from going anywhere, and he looked at the man with puzzled eyes. _

"_Stay here tonight." Jack murmured. _

"_I don't have clothes." Ianto spit out, the offer catching him unawares. He thought that, in any normal relationship, sleeping over was only contingent on shagging._

"_I do." Jack said with a smile._

_And that was the moment that Ianto stopped thinking that his relationship with Jack was normal._

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**Ta-Da!**

**Ha, I bet you guys thought this would end in sex, huh. :-P**

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	4. Us Against the World

**Author's Note: Sorry for being a week overdue, things are happening. I'm going to go ahead and tell you that there wont be another update until school is out. Main reason being exams, and getting all of my paperwork finished for the boarding school I'm transferring to next year, etc, etc. Busy ol' me. Anyway, I'm going to try and get one up a couple days after school is released, which is June 10, so be on the lookout! Thanks to all of my reviewers and silent stalkers, you guys keep me working!**

**Sorry, this chapter isn't beta-ed. All mistakes are my own. ^_^**

**Find me on twitter and LJ as kausingkayn.**

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"**Us Against The World"**

_I don't want the world to see me, cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am._

– _Goo Goo Dolls "Iris"_

The man stood in the back of the room, staying out of sight and out of mind. He didn't even take a seat as everyone stood up to say their eulogies – nor had he walked up to the coffin during the viewing period. No one knew him, or cared enough to stop and chat. His face was set in a scowl that radiated negativity, even for a funeral. People moved around him as if he was invisible. No one dared to talk to him or even acknowledge him. He was a strange face among many, and everyone was too filled with their own grief to give him any notice.

No one saw the tear stains that soiled his fair skin, or the sleepless look of someone who had just spent long hours on a plane ride. The pain in his face was hidden by his sour look, and no one was willing to look deeper into his sadness.

He was the last through the line to read the cards that went with the flowers – he waited until everyone was finished to leaf through the books. It wouldn't have made a difference, anyway, since he owned every single one of them and had read them so many times that the spines were falling out of them.

No one noticed the single rose that he brought to the funeral. Nor did anyone say anything when he added it to the table where there were piles and piles of large bouquets, all bought from some florist at a last minute notice. His rose was the only flower that had any kind of feeling or emotion put into it.

Not that anyone noticed.

And that night, when Ianto's dead eyes skimmed over the guest book, his hands automatically writing down the names that he needed to send thank you cards to for the flowers or the kind words, he wouldn't even pause as his eyes skimmed over the sloppily written and beyond legible handwriting.

'John Hart.'

_It was a Wednesday evening, and Ianto Jones was doing what any other young single man would be doing when he had the evening and next morning off and had his paycheck freshly deposited in his checking account – he went shopping._

_It was purely need-based shopping, of course. Ianto wasn't one of the people who would buy something just for the hell of it – he needed a reason or an event or a purpose in mind. If he say a pair of shoes he could die for, he mentally went through his list of shoes and first asked himself whether or not his pair that closely resembled those awesome shoes in the window needed replaced. If not, he would sigh and move on. This evening was no different. The store was surprisingly quiet for a weekday and he was able to push the cart through the food isles without any trouble or having to keep a particularly sharp eye out for little children who tended to get stuck in the wheels. _

_He had his list, of course – typed up on his blackberry and written down, just in case he forgot. His handwriting was neat, little block letters that were perfectly align – he had used a ruler to draw the lines himself. Each item he needed was categorized due to price, area in the store, and necessity. If he hit his budget limit before reaching the end of the list, he would already have the immediate needs taken care of. Shopping wasn't just a chore; it was a laborious art form._

_And so Ianto Jones pushed his buggy down the milk isle, stopping in front of the glass refrigerator. He pulled it out of the way so that another cart could make it past him, and scrutinized the pricing, expiration date, and health labels on each carton. He had been developing a slight muffin top, and needed to start watching what he was eating – he blamed it on Jack, the man was a bloody good cook as long as he wasn't touching a coffee machine. _That_ was another story._

_Ianto, finally achieving his goal of finding the most suitable half-gallon carton in the store, opened the fridge, his eyes shutting in defense as the cold air curled around his face. He opened his eyes and reached up with his free hand, grabbing the milk that had passed his difficult test. Then the door was shut, the milk placed in a strategic position in the cart, and the four letter word was marked off of both of Ianto's lists – one with pen, the other with his cursor._

_His eyes skipped down to the next item as he mentally subtracted the price from his budget. Bread. _

_New mission firmly in his grasp, Ianto pulled his buggy back into the traffic lane of the isle and started to move toward his destination at a steady pace. He surpassed the bread that was stuffed in the plastic bags and stored on the shelves for who knows how long and headed straight for the fresh deli that took residence in the far corner of the grocery. There Ianto took a moment to intake the smells – fresh bread, sweet icing, the honey glaze that went on the freshly baked hams. He remained distracted for only as long as would be deemed necessary, and then once again focused on the task at hand. His eyes skillfully searched the rows as only a master could. Inches away from his desired goal, Ianto stopped short, caught off guard by an enemy lurking stealthily in the corner – muffins._

_There they sat, looking as innocent as can be. They were in a small white box covered in a thin sheet of plastic wrap. There were only four of them, and they were medium shaped muffins. It was one of those mini variety boxes – blueberry, chocolate, lemon poppy seed, and cranberry. Ianto felt his mouth fill with saliva, and all he wanted to do was to pick up the box and take them home with him. He would eat the chocolate one, of course. He had a sweet tooth for all chocolaty items, especially dark. And the cranberry, because Ianto loved cranberry. He would leave the other two for Jack, maybe wrap them up nicely and take them to his work one day for a surprise. It would be nice, and entertaining to see Jack's eyes light up as he would gaze hungrily upon the pastries – kinda like Ianto was doing now. _

_He heard them calling to him, their little muffin voices swimming in his head. 'buy us Ianto. You know you want to.' He thought about it seriously for a few moments, even going as far as calculating what he would have to leave behind in the store in order to take the little pieces of heaven home with him. But then something even more captivating than the muffins caught Ianto's attention._

_She was tall and beautiful with flawless chocolate skin and short hair and full lips. She had those eyes that told you she loved you and a walk that made her seem she was floating – at least, that's how Ianto perceived her. Lisa Halliet. Ianto's captivation lasted only until his addled mind told him that the last thing he wanted to do was talk to her. He made a move to hide too late, for her eyes had already zeroed in on him, and her face was already adapting that look of recognition. He couldn't run now – it would look too suspicious. Plus, he was frozen to the spot._

"_Ianto?" She asked hesitantly, as if unable to believe it herself. _

_It took Ianto everything he had to just nod and give a closemouthed smile. He swallowed, and his tongue got stuck on the roof of his mouth. All the saliva that had massed due to the muffins had quickly found someplace more important to be, and when Ianto opened his mouth the words were muted by his shock. His hands squeezed the cart so hard that his fingers turned white – they were soon slipping from the bar, unable to maintain their tight grip due to the amount of perspiration coming from his pores. "L-lisa."_

_She gave a soft smile and slowed her cart to a stop inches away from his own. They stood there, looking at each other, neither of them able to make the next move. The silence, which was never comfortable, grew even more awkward as the seconds consciously ticked by. Ianto cleared his throat. Lisa shifted the weight on her feet._

"_So." Lisa said finally, the first to break the silence. She had always been the first to disperse of an awkward situation. However, this time the tense atmosphere of the moment was not broken by spoken word. "It's nice to se you again."_

_Ianto would have laughed if he wasn't so focused on breathing and keeping his heart working. Instead, he managed a monosyllable response. "Yeah."_

_Another few unbearable seconds. One of them coughed – perhaps both. Ianto wasn't sure. _

"_You look good." Lisa said, and Ianto returned the compliment. The tension in the air was getting to a ridiculous level, something which both members of the party of two realized. "You live here, or just visiting?"_

"_Live here." Ianto mumbled. That was easy enough, two words, didn't require much thought. He could get through this without causing a mental breakdown or something humiliating and painful to resurface. "You?"_

"_Visiting – me and my fiancé needed some time away from everything. We're staying at a nearby bed and breakfast." She stated, her eyes conveniently finding someplace else to look when she said the word 'fiancé.' Ianto didn't blame her._

_He nodded at her comment, and the silence once again fell into place. Ianto's heart was now beating so fast that he thought he would collapse at any moment. He was surprised he was even still standing up he felt so weak. He mentally asked why they had to meet, why this had to happen. He had moved two bloody hours away so that he wouldn't have to deal with awkward confrontations like this. It figures. _

"_Well, I've got to go." Lisa said at last, giving him a slightly bigger smile than her hello one. "It was nice to see you Ianto."_

_And then she was backing her buggy up and wheeling it with considerable grace to the next isle, where her form slowly disappeared. Ianto stayed frozen to the spot for a few moments later, unable to trust himself to move. He finally broke, leaning on the cart and he crumbled. He choked back the emotions that were threatening to spill over and left the store as fast as possible, paying for the little amount of groceries he had before taking shelter in his car. He had to sit in the parking lot for a good half hour until he was stable enough to trust himself to drive. _

_Meanwhile, the muffins sat on the shelf in the deli section, all but forgotten._

**--xXx--**

'_Yan, wazup? Shift ovur – movie 2nite? –J'_

'_I no ur not work. –J'_

'_Did I do somethin? –J'_

'_Fine, no movie. Dinner mine? –J'_

'_Iaaaaaantooooooo. U thr? –J'_

'_Stop ignorin me. Seriously. –J'_

'_Really. Not funneh. –J'_

'_Ok, somthins wrong. Im comin ovur. –J'_

_Ianto's phone continued to vibrate, but he ignored it. He knew who it was, and Jack was the last person he felt like talking to at the moment. Ianto was curled up on his sofa, wrapped up in a blanket and wearing his pajamas, watching late night television, but not really paying attention. When he got home he had just crashed – put away his measly amount of groceries, took a zombie shower, changed, then just collapsed onto the couch._

_He hadn't moved since._

_His mind was bombarded with memories and feelings and guilt that he had buried so long ago. Things that he had never wanted to dig up again. He didn't cry, or sniff, or really show anything on the outside – there was no indication that he was having a full out breakdown other than his eerily blank stare that was directed to the television. He didn't even react when Jack's heavy pounding came at the door. _

"_I know you're in there Ianto! I hear the television!" Jack's voice came through the door, finally eliciting a reaction from Ianto._

"_Go away Jack." Ianto's voice came out sounding dry and a little raw, it was foreign to his own ears. Everything seemed foreign at the moment – wrong. Nothing was right, nothing was working. _

_He heard a sigh and then there was the soft sound of scraping from the other side of the wall. Minutes past, and the annoying noise was getting to the point of driving Ianto mad. He was almost about to get up and yell at Jack when a click came from the door and the handle turned, opening up an entrance for the American to stroll through. And that he did, like he owned the place instead of like a man who had just picked the lock. He looked cross and had already opened his mouth to give Ianto a piece of his mind when he stopped, taking in the sight before him. The anger quickly turned to worry when he saw the state that Ianto was in._

"_Yan, are you ok?" Jack asked softly, walking softly to the couch, sitting down on the edge._

"_Just leave." Ianto said, not even looking at Jack, his voice monotonous and unfeeling. He closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands. "Please."_

_But Jack was nothing if not stubborn, and he wasn't one to leave a person in such a state, especially one that he deeply cared about. Jack stood up, but he didn't leave like Ianto asked. Instead, he went into the kitchen. Uncomforting noises came from the small room, and Ianto hesitated a look. Even through the haze of confusion that he was going through at the moment, the Welshman couldn't stop the worry for the health of his coffee maker from budding to the top of his mind. _

_Jack returned several minutes later, but not with coffee. Sure, it was a steaming cup of dark liquid, but from the evidence of marshmallows and the scent of chocolate, it was hot chocolate and not the caffeinated beverage. Jack gave Ianto a small smile and sat the cup on the coffee table before relaxing into the sofa. He sat close to Ianto, positioning himself and his hands just so that if Ianto was inclined, he could easily reach Jack's hand or lean over and rest his head on his shoulder. This didn't go unnoticed._

_And that was how they sat for a while; Ianto staring straight ahead, attempting to forget Jack, or at least channel his feelings into rage of the American breaking into his flat or ignoring his personal boundaries. But as hard as he tried, he was met with no avail. He couldn't get mad at Jack. In fact, the longer the silence stretched, the more Ianto wanted to talk about it. He never had anyone to talk to before, not really. No one other than Toshiko, that was, and he hadn't even discussed everything with her. But for some reason, Ianto didn't have that feeling when it came to Jack. He knew, deep down, he would understand._

_So, after almost twenty minutes of complete silence – save for the almost muted chatter of the television, Ianto became to speak. "Her name was Lisa."_

_Jack perked up a bit as this, turning his head to meet Ianto's eyes. He nodded, and Ianto continued. "I – she was my first serious relationship; my first relationship, really. She asked me out."_

_Ianto paused, his hands coming out from under his blanket in order to run a hand through his ragged hair. He dug for courage to continue, and was surprised when it came easily. "We were together for a while. It was funny – when I realized that I spent more time watching guy's arses and crotches than my own girlfriend._

"_I thought nothing of it, until this speaker came to our school. He talked about puberty and stuff and that was when I realized I wasn't reacting like I should have. All the guys wanted to talk about were girls, and I was more interested in watching them._

"_So I told my mum and Tad. Lisa was there. I told them that I was gay – " Ianto's voice broke then, the tears finally spilling over. They were silent tears. His hand reached out and blinding grabbed for Jack's – the American quickly wrapped his digits around his. "I didn't realize then, how much I had hurt Lisa. How much I had hurt my parents. Tad kicked me out of the house, mum didn't do anything to stop it. I stayed at a friend's house – Tosh – but I didn't tell her everything. I became the outcast of the school, and Lisa was picked on to the point of transferring schools. I moved as soon as I graduated."_

_Ianto finished then, closing his eyes, squeezing Jack's hand tight, scared that he would feel him tug away, would look up to see a look of disgust or hatred on Jack's face. Scared that he would leave and never come back. The silence grew once again, stretching and twisting until Ianto couldn't take it anymore._

"_John Hart." Jack finally said, and Ianto looked up in surprise, wiping his eyes with his free hand. He was shocked to see that Jack's eyes were also moistened with tears. "He was my best friend since day care. We'd raise cain, little hellions. It started with stealing crayons and went all the way to stealing cars. Man, we were the kings of the school._

"_I was fifteen when I figured out that I liked John as more than a friend. I told my parents, and they were so great. They said they knew about me since I was nine, and was waiting for me to figure it out." Jack paused for a chuckle here, and Ianto couldn't help the streak of jealously that was coursing through him. He hadn't even had that._

"_I didn't act on it, not for another year, at least. John went through girlfriends like the days of the week. I fooled around a little with a couple of them – nothing serious. I never was really into it anyway. We were up on the roof of his house, plotting a prank against this bitch of a teacher. John got off topic, talking about some chick he had just shagged. I was trying not to get jealous. He was so beautiful then, with the moon lighting up his face and his blonde curly hair looking like it was glowing. I couldn't help it. I kissed him." Jack stopped, and Ianto moved closer, leaning against Jack, squeezing his hand in a comforting way, hating himself for the jealously that had quickly dissipated. _

_Jack squeezed back. "He was disturbed, and ran off the roof right then. I was a mess. Didn't want to go to school, knowing that John would tell everyone. It was the best thing he had ever done for me, not telling anyone. He kept it a secret – probably because he was embarrassed. But our friendship was never the same. He wouldn't talk to me unless friends surrounded him. In public we were best buds, but there were no more nights on the roof. I graduated two years later – the worst two years of my life – and told my parents I was going to England for the summer to find myself. I never went back."_

_Ianto let out a shaky breath, and Jack laughed. It was a ragged laugh that was choked by tears and irony. "We're a fucking mess, aren't we."_

_Ianto gave a half-hearted attempt at a laugh. He thought that Jack was finished but he wasn't. The American took a breath, cleared his eyes, then started right back up. "My first real relationship was in Uni. His name was Scott. He was the perfect guy, but I was still young and stupid and screwed it up. I had someone who loved me and I knew that if I hadn't screwed up, we would have been together for life. But I went off and was stupid and he left me – he should have, I wasn't good enough. Not then." _

_Then Jack looked deep into Ianto's eyes, and the Welshman's breath was taken away. "I thought – that was it. I blew it. But then I walked into a coffee shop almost four years later and I met you."_

_Ianto kissed him. It was easy, he just hand to move a few inches; that was how close they were. He leaned forward and suddenly their lips were pressed together. But it wasn't a chaste kiss or even slightly passionate like their other kisses always were. This one was needy, desperate, wanting, full of lust and lots of other sinful thoughts. It was a kiss that elevated their heart rates and elicited moans. _

_Jack pulled away reluctantly, not missing the disappointment in Ianto's eyes. "Ianto…you…you sure?"_

_The Welshman nodded before crashing their lips back together. Jack fell backwards onto the couch with a groan, Ianto falling on top of him. Both parties felt the other's excitement, and Jack – with much more self-control that he though he had – pulled back once more. "Ianto, I don't want to rush you into anything you're going to regret in the morning."_

"_I won't regret this Jack. I promise." Ianto said huskily, panting slightly. "I – I'm in like with you, Jack, and I think, maybe, it could become love, and I want this…I _need_ this right now. Please."_

_And Jack kissed him, because who was he to say no to that?_

"_Jack?" Ianto said into the kiss, and the American stopped once more. _

"_Hmm."_

"_Just, go slow, ok?" He asked, nervousness filling the Welshman's eyes. _

_Jack gave a soft smile and leaned up, giving Ianto a long, soft, drawn out kiss that slowly became more heated a lustful. "Anything."_

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**Reviews are awesome. ^_^**


	5. Words Better Off Not Said

**Author's Note: Um. Sorry for taking so long? And sorry in advance for there not being a funeral scene. There wont be one for the next few, couldn't think of anything. All flash backs. Thanks so much for all the reviews and my silent stalkers, you guys are awesome. I'm working on finishing this, I really am. And here is where it REALLY crosses over with Doctor Who. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood or Doctor Who**

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"**Words Better off Not Said"**

_Ianto snuggled down deeper underneath the large blanket that he was cocooned in. He felt his foot start to slip off of the couch and reached with his hand, pulling his rogue appendage back to the safety of the sofa. Ianto frowned as the blanket started to slip from his neck, leaving precious skin to fend for itself against the cold. He shrugged it back into place and closed his eyes, willing the trapped heat under the blanket to soak into his skin._

_He opened his eyes to the sound of soft feet padding into the living room. Ianto gave a closemouthed smile as Jack entered the room, two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands._

"_You're insane." Ianto muttered as he stared at Jack. The man was wearing only a pair of long pajama bottoms, and even those were made out of thin material. They were, in fact, a pair that Ianto had bought the man – they had lots of suggestive quotes printed at odd angles on the fabric. Jack had, of course, loved them and wore them when it got cold outside. The Welshman had no idea how Jack was able to deal with the cold. He himself was wearing a t-shirt and jacket, along with his thermal underwear and thick socks, and he was still on the verge of shivering. He blamed it on the winter – it was freezing cold and to save money, Jack didn't use the heat unless it was absolutely necessary. Apparently, a boyfriend freezing to death wasn't classified as an emergency._

_Jack chuckled and eyed the heavy blanket with a curiosity. "You aren't naked under there, are you?"_

_Ianto just narrowed his eyes, refusing to remove the blanket to prove a point. Instead, he just stuck his hands up, the blanket molding around his fingers and making it look like two stubs sticking up under the warm material. _

_Jack raised an eyebrow and sat down as carefully as possible on the couch next to Ianto. He handed the brimming cup of steaming hot chocolate to the two stubs that were sticking out under the blanket, then took a sip of his own. Ianto accepted his cup with as much grace as a man swaddled in a heavy Star Trek blanket could, and tasted his drink, unable to suppress a sound of delight as the liquid tingled in his mouth, sending shots of warmth through his body._

_Jack watched his lover, a smile on his face. Then, he slung his arm around Ianto and scooted closer, unable to resist placing a soft kiss on the man's cheek before sipping his drink again and gesturing toward the television. "Well?"_

_Ianto glanced up form his drink and his eyes shifted from the hot chocolate to the television to the remote that lay forlornly on the coffee table back to the beverage. Jack laughed when he saw what Ianto was doing, and the laugh grew louder as the frown grew on the Welshman's face. _

"_You're just gonna sit there." Ianto murmured, slightly cross. He leaned forward and sat the hot chocolate on the coffee table, letting out a shudder and a whimper as the cold air hit the newly unprotected areas of his neck. Ianto then grabbed the remote and sat back on the couch as quickly as possible, slipping the device under the blanket and aiming it at the television. His frown grew greater as the remote was unable to successfully send the message to the television box through the thick blanket._

_Jack just watched, an amused look on his face. "It's called a snuggie, you should look into it. Good investment."_

_Ianto replied by taking his arm out from under the blanket long enough to chuck the remote at Jack. _

_The man laughed as the device hit his bare chest and plopped into his laugh. Jack aimed it at the television and cued the movie that had been waiting patiently in the DVD player. The beginning credits started to play, pop music filled the air, and the title screen for __James Bond: Casino Royale__ came on. _

_Ianto smiled at the title sequence and dug deeper into his nest. Jack glanced at Ianto and smirked. In an impromptu moment, the man sat his hot chocolate onto the coffee table and then grabbed the edge of the blanket, un-tucking it from under Ianto's body and creating a large enough opening for him to sneak under. Jack suppressed a squeak of surprise from escaping through his lips as Ianto's ice cold skin came in contact with his. Ianto, however, let out a happy moan as the warm from Jack's body encircled him. The Welshman leaned into Jack, the blanket covering both of them as he curled into Jack's stomach and rested his head on the man's chest, his numbness and coldness fleeing the scene immediately._

_They stayed like this for about half of the film, Ianto being too comfortable to move and Jack enjoying the feeling of his lover cuddling him. However, after a while, Jack couldn't stand the tingling sensation in his arm, and had to move. He shifted away, and chuckled at how Ianto moved with his body. "Yan, my arm's asleep."_

"_Shh, don't wake it up." Ianto said into Jack's chest. The American laughed and untangled his arm from the Welshman's waist and moved it around a couple times to get the blood flowing again. "What time is it?"_

_Jack raised an eyebrow at the random question, but leaned forward all the same, disconnecting himself from Ianto completely, reaching for his phone. He clicked the side button and glanced at the digital readout. Next to him Ianto sat up on the couch and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Little past midnight. Why?"_

"_Shit." Ianto said sleepily, causing a grin to crack on Jack's face. He was cute when he cussed in a sleepy voice. "I gotta go to work, early shift in a coupla hours."_

_Jack sat his phone back on the table before leaning against the couch, propping his feet up and stretching out. Ianto automatically leaned back down, his head landing in Jack's lap, his feet hanging off of the other end of the couch. The man groaned and shifted, his head coming to rest on Jack's warm stomach._

"_Hey Yan." Jack said, his voice sounded unconnected, as if he was thinking hard._

"_Hmm."_

"_You ever think about getting a better job?"_

_Ianto turned around so that he was lying on his back, the base of his skull digging into Jack's stomach. The Welshman's eyebrows were knit together in thought. His hand reached out to blindly grab the remote, the man almost falling off of the couch in the process. The television successfully being turned off, Ianto turned back to the question at hand. His fingers rubbed his eyes as he thought. "Why?"_

_Jack shrugged, and another long pause filled the room, this time unhindered by the distracting noises of James Bond. "This guy came into the bookstore the other day. Said he was looking for someone to do a paperwork job. Busy shit and stuff. Left his card. He works for this experimental company…though you'd want to call the guy."_

_Ianto thought about it. Jack had been bringing that up a lot lately – him getting a better job. He didn't know why Jack didn't approve of his career choice and it had been getting rather annoying. But Ianto was tired and really didn't want to go to work the next day, and he was tired of his job. "I'll think bout it."_

_Jack smiled and dipped his head down, connecting their lips. Ianto kissed him back, and the two men shared a spider-man kiss._

**-xXx-**

_Ianto sat in the lobby of the large research facility, his hands wringing together, turning his skin red form the constant irritation. The chair he was in was too plush and overly-stuffed, he was falling into it and unable to sit up straight and be comfortable. His suit felt too small and too large all at once, and the perspiration that was slowly dribbling down his forehead and cheeks wasn't helping. He let out a long, shaky breath and reached into his jacket pocket for the umpteenth time, fingering the cigarettes that sat there. Five minutes – all he needed was five minutes. The receptionist at the enormous desk probably wouldn't even notice if he stepped out for a smoke. He had been waiting there for at least half an hour already, what would five more minutes be?_

_The room was large and leaked wealth. On the dark green walls there were lots of expensively framed photos, each depicting some important scientist who discovered cancer, or some founder who dedicated millions of dollars for research. Ianto knew that everyone in the ten story building had some sort of degree and had an IQ of over 130 – all those brain cells working toward discoveries that would change the world. It made Ianto feel very small and insignificant and increased the size of the word 'loser' that had floated around his mind since stepping foot on the carpet-laden floor. He wrung his hands some more, wincing this time at the dull pain his raw skin was giving off. His eyes darted around the large and unoccupied room, wishing that he hadn't taken Jack up on his offer. He could be home right now, talking with Tosh or getting ready for work the next day. Instead, he was stuck here, in a place that he didn't belong._

"_Mr. Jones?"_

_The voice jolted Ianto from his thoughts and back into reality. He ran his sweaty hands down his suit jacket and stood up, taking a moment to steady himself. It had been a while since he had stood up, and his nerves weren't helping his light-headedness. He gave a weak smile and – with limited grace – approached the woman._

"_Follow me." She said with a smile that was surprisingly warm and genuine for someone whose job description included smiling on a daily basis. That fact by itself made Ianto feel a bit better, but only a bit. _

_The office that Ianto walked into was even more intimidating than the waiting room that he had just left. The room basically oozed success. Plaques of recognition and certificates that the man had received covered the walls. A glass container sat on top of a large antique oak cabinet, which showcased all the awards that had been won. But that was about where the professionalism ended. The chairs were those plastic hand chairs that you saw at hippie stores, but instead of being made out of plastic, they were marble. Each wall – underneath the picture frames – was a different color. Among the frames, there was one random point on the wall that, instead of housing another plaque, was renting it's space to a piece of an old Police Box, the lettering resting on the blue wood which was nailed to the wall. Ianto wondered what the story was behind that._

_The man's desk was, instead of being wood, a fish tank. Ianto could see the drawers that were carved out of the glass, the fish floating around them, minding their own business. On top of the desk it was like any other wooden desk – papers scattered about in such an un-orderly fashion that Ianto was itching to straighten them, a lamp that was currently off due to the natural lighting of the room, a laptop computer that was whizzing importantly, and photo frames whose backs were facing Ianto so he couldn't see who was in them. But, perhaps the most unusual thing in the room…was the man himself._

_He was sitting cross-legged on the floor behind his desk, his features marred by the water between Ianto and the man. His head was cocked slightly sideways in a position of thought as he gazed at the fish, completely lost in his own world. Ianto sat down in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs and waited. The clock on the wall – which was in the shape of a penguin – ticked slowly, and Ianto nervously fidgeted in the chair. Finally unable to take this strange silence, he coughed._

_The man jerked as if surprised, then looked through the fish tank. "Oh, hello!"_

_He stood up and dusted himself off, giving a large smile before extending his hand. His features now in correct proportion, Ianto was able to get a real look at him. Defined cheek-bones, larger-than-average nose, with brown floppy hair and eyes that twinkled with excitement and out-of-this-world genius. He wore an off-pink dress shirt accompanied by a red bow tie that was slightly crooked, once again making Ianto's fingers itch to straighten it. There was a brown tweed jacket over him frame, almost hiding the red braces from view. Black pants without a belt finished the ensemble, and Ianto found himself going out on a mental tangent and questioning once again why Jack liked to wear a belt while sporting his braces. _

_Ianto reached out hesitantly and weakly grasped the man's hand. Ianto felt his arm start to shake up and down with immense speed and strength, and his eyes widened slightly at the force of the handshake. At the next possible moment Ianto withdrew him hand then uncomfortably sat down._

_The man across from him did the same and spent a few minutes searching through the unorganized piles of paper on his fish tank. Ianto waited for a few moments, then quietly coughed again. "Erm…Ianto Jones, sir."_

_The man looked up, a large smile growing on his face as he furiously typed something into his laptop. "Yes, yes! Ianto Jones. Yan-toe. Love that name, rolls off the tongue."_

_Ianto tried not to run out of the room, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. The woman on the phone, when he had called to make an appointment, had seemed sane enough. _

"_Ah, but I haven't introduced myself, have I! Sorry about that. Anyway, I'm Doctor Matt Smith, but you can call me Doctor." He nodded, agreeing with his own statement, then leaned back in the chair and narrowed his eyes, his face suddenly becoming deadly serious as he glared at Ianto._

_The Welshman shifted under the stare and swallowed. Wait – wasn't Jack's boss' nickname Doctor? That was going to be confusing. _

"_So, Ianto Jones." The Doctor paused, and Ianto found himself leaning slightly forward in his chair, curious as to where the last half of the sentence had gotten off to. "You work at a coffee shop, never finished uni, not really looking for a career. Right?"_

_Ianto swallowed again, and found that he couldn't – his mouth was too dry. He nodded timidly. "Y-yes sir."_

"_I see." The Doctor leaned forward, his hands clasping together and providing a resting spot for his chin. He stared directly into Ianto's eyes, and the Welshman was unable to look away. "I only have one question."_

_Ianto nodded, unable to trust himself to speak, scared that stuttering again would get him in some sort of trouble. _

"_Do you know your ABC's?"_

"_Sorry?" Ianto said before he could stop himself, completely caught off guard._

_The Doctor raised his eyebrow and pushed off from the desk, sitting up straight. "ABC's, XYZ's, alphabet…why, do you Welsh have another word for it? You know, A B C D E F G…" The man started to sing the alphabet song under his breath._

"_I…yes, sir. I do know my ABC's." This conversation could not be happening. Ianto was sitting in the office of one of the most brilliant scientists in England, and the man was singing the ABC song._

_The Doctor's face burst out into a large smile and he stood up, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. "Brilliant! You're hired!"_

_Ianto just sat there for a second, his jaw on the floor. What had just happened? Had he really just been hired for a job because he knew the alphabet?_

"_You can start Monday – begin as a junior archivist. You'll raise in ranks quickly, especially since the competition for the head spot is you and the mold that is growing in the corners….hmm, need to get that checked. Again."_

_Ianto stood up slowly from the hand chair and gave a small smile, relief washing through him. He found that he actually liked the strange Doctor, after the shock of the whole interview had run it's course. "Thank you, sir."_

"_Doctor! Sir makes me feel old." He shriveled up his face for a moment. "And you should be thanking Jack – I'm glad he told me about you, knew as soon as he described you that you'd be perfect…a man with a tie is always neat."_

_Ianto frowned, something not adding up in the Doctor's words. "Wait – Doctor, did you say Jack told you about me?" Jack had told Ianto that the Doctor had come to the book store looking to put up help wanted signs, and Jack had grabbed a card on the way out. No where in their conversation had Jack said he had told the Doctor about him – and it seemed like the two of them knew each other personally, the way the Doctor was talking._

"_Yes, he was at David's last week for dinner. Lovely, by the way, thanks for asking." The Doctor rambled on. He came to an abrupt halt, and silence filled the room for a few seconds as his eyes grew comically wide. Then, the Doctor slapped his hand over his mouth, sucking in a large breath and letting it out in the form of a groan. "Ah, bugger." He said, speaking through his hands._

_Ianto pressed his lips tightly together, the only sign of the growing anger that was boiling inside of him. "Thank you, Doctor."_

_Then, Ianto turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Doctor Matt Smith in his office to guilt himself over what he had just spilled. He stood there for a few moments after Ianto had left, then the yellow fish in his tank did something a little less than extraordinary, and he was successfully distracted._

**-xXx-**

_Jack was sprawled out on the floor of his writers room, papers under him and on top of him and all around him. His fingers flew over the keys, and his grin grew with every stroke. He had it now – the perfect idea. The book series that would secure his immortality. His short lived fiction about the World War II soldiers sat abandoned in the corner of his room, buried by some other thought that had invaded his mind. It had become one of the many forgotten plots that had once held Jack's attention. But the one he was working on now was different – he hadn't just thought it up out of the blue. He had been inspired._

_He paused only long enough to take a sip of his water, and frowned as no liquid moistened his lips. Distracted, Jack took his eyes off of his computer screen and glared at the empty cup. His thirst strong enough to force Jack into action, the man sat up, groaned as his back complained. He had been lying in that position way too long. He stretched a bit, then minimized his word document and smiled as his wallpaper filled his vision. It was him and Ianto, kissing. The man hadn't even known that Jack had taken the photo, and would more than likely throw a fit if he knew that Jack had it. That thought, along with how cute they looked together, was enough for the American to keep it._

_Jack finally finished his journey by standing up, hopping on the balls of his feet a few times to get blood flowing again before leaning down to grab his cup and treading lazily to the kitchen. He was filling his cup back up with water from his fridge when a knock sounded at the front of his door. _

_Jack frowned, having no idea who it could be. Ianto always called or texted before coming over, and his phone was free of missed calls or messages. Owen would show up at random times, but he was in London this week with Katie. Not sure who else would show up unannounced, Jack wadded over to the door, where he curiously looked through the peep hole. Surprised to find Ianto standing just outside, Jack opened the door and stepped back, allowing room for the man to enter. "Yan! What's wrong?"_

_Ianto walked through the door and slowly took his coat off, folding it then lying it carefully on the back of Jack's couch. The American watched him with worry – there was something wrong. The other man seemed to be composed and fine, but then again Ianto was always so good at hiding his emotions, except for those rare instances. But Jack noticed the little things, like how Ianto shoved his hands deep into his pockets and was pressing his lips into a thin, straight line instead of chewing on the inside like he normally did when first entering his flat._

"_I just came from my interview." Ianto said, his words laced with hidden meanings and a message that Jack tried to decipher. The American frowned and crossed his arms. _

"_Did you not get the job?"_

"_No, I got the job." Ianto said, then Jack watched him hesitate, like there was something else he wanted to say. Jack gave him time, knowing that if the silence spanned long enough, the Welshman would eventually spit it out. And sure enough, it came. "Then, my new boss informed me that you talked him into giving me an interview."_

_Jack's body suddenly grew relaxed, and he laughed. That was it. The American had been scared that it was something serious. Jack had been a bit stressed at first when Ianto told him he had arranged for an interview. Matt came across strong sometimes, and he knew how Ianto dealt with meeting new people. But he had been hired, which was a good thing. So Jack smiled and moved forward, aiming for a kiss. "Yeah. Congrats, Ianto!"_

_But Ianto shirked away from him as he advanced, and Jack frowned. "What's wrong?"_

"_You could have told me. That you knew Matt Smith. Before sending me in there. Could have told me you arranged the whole thing instead of…instead of lying to me and making me thing that you had nothing to do with it."_

_Jack's frowned deepened and he crossed his arms in defense, his voice coming out a bit sharper than he had planned. "What's your problem? You got the job, and you can finally get out of that shitty coffee shop! Who cares how you got the interview?"_

_Ianto stiffened when Jack described the coffee shop, and a frown grew on the Welshman's face that mirrored Jack's own. "Do you really hate my job so much that you. - " Ianto drifted off and let out a long, shaky breath, biting down on his bottom lip hard. " – manipulate me?"_

_Jack set his jaw and adapted his angry stance, his feet slightly wider apart, his left hand on his hip, while his right one was used to make constant jabbing motions. "Yes, I do hate your job. What I can't believe is that you are doing something every day that you despise! Don't – " Jack cut Ianto off as the man went to contradict what he was saying. " – I know you hate it! The way you act, how you sound when you talk about it – that job is sucking you dry, Ianto! Don't you care? Don't you want to do something with your life? You're wasting away, earning barely enough to live. Look me in the eye and tell me you're happy! Tell me that, and I'll leave it!"_

_They stared at each other, Jacks anger fueled even more by the way Ianto was looking at him. It killed him, watching Ianto walk around and pretend that everything was perfect. He hated his job, always complained about it. But he never made a move to fix it, to make it better. Jack knew that Ianto had problems with self-esteem, and he knew they stemmed from his parents disowning him after finding out about his sexuality. Jack did everything he could think of to help Ianto realize that he was bloody brilliant – but no matter how much he pushed, no matter how much he tried to get Ianto to break out of his timid mold and do something about his problems, the man wouldn't budge. It was as if Ianto thought that he deserved to be miserable, and that was breaking Jack's heart. So yes, Jack had gone behind Ianto's back to arrange this job. Matt had promised not to tell – that way Ianto could get the job on his own accord. But Jack would never tell Ianto the reason behind his 'manipulation.'_

"_I don't like being used, Jack." Ianto whispered, his voice shaky with emotions, his eyes tearing up at the words. Jack watched as Ianto took his hands out of his pockets, his fingers clenched into fists. He watched as his lover screwed his eyes shut, trying not to cry. And all he wanted to do was hug him and kiss him and tell him everything was ok. But he couldn't – because Ianto didn't need that. He needed a wake-up call._

"_I wouldn't have had to "use" you if you had done something for yourself for once! I don't understand why you do this – why you purposefully turn down everything that could fix your life! You are so smart – brilliant, even! I've heard you talk about everything! You could do so many things, Ianto! So many! Instead, you are stuck in a shitty, dead-end job that you _hate!_" Jack was yelling now, his voice growing louder and angrier at every word. His eyes stung, and the look that Ianto was giving him was enough to break anyone's heart, but Jack couldn't stop. Not now. "Is there nothing in this world that you are passionate about? Nothing you love? You have to be passionate about something, Ianto! It's what makes us human! Are you human? Sometimes I think you're just some kind of shell. A robot. Is that what you are?"_

"_Fine advice, coming from a worthless author who can't finish a fucking novel, and is working in a second-hand book store." Ianto had stopped trying to hold back his tears, and they flowed freely down his cheeks. He turned then, reaching out for his coat._

_Jack stumbled back as if he had been slapped. Ianto's words dug deeper than the man could ever imagine, and Jack breathed heavily, mentally winded by the comment. He watched as Ianto picked up his coat and shrugged it on. He saw the tears, but was past caring. "Is that it then? You going to go outside and smoke your fucking cigarettes?"_

_Ianto didn't turn around, didn't say anything. Just kept moving toward the door, his shaking hand barely able to grasp the handle tight enough to turn it._

"_Is this it, Ianto? Just gonna walk away! Not gonna say anything?" Jack kept yelling until his apartment door slammed shut. It was as if the door was closing on their relationship, and Jack lost it. He yelled profanities and turned around, tears falling down his face. He grabbed the trashcan in the kitchen and forcefully opened the drawers, searching for the lighter that Ianto had stored at his home. Jack found it, and then took his two newly acquired items into his writers room. He emptied out the trash can and set it in the middle of the room. Tears blurring his vision, Jack started to tear down all of the papers off of the walls and stuff them unceremoniously into the trash can. The drawings he tore into pieces before adding them to the bin. It soon became overflowed with paper, but Jack didn't notice. He kept stuffing sheet after sheet of his work – his legacy – into the bin, crying all the while as he did so. He at last came to the drawing of Ianto that he had done – his first complete piece of work. Jack stared at this for a few moments before bawling it up in his hand. A death grip on the ruined drawing, Jack unsteadily flicked the lighter on and, without hesitation, lit the end of the paper in the trash can on fire. It caught quickly, and slowly, steadily, painfully, Jack watched his life burn in front of him. He glanced around the room and zeroed in on his laptop that was lying on the floor, right where he left it. In rage, he picked it up and walked over to the single window in the room._

_Jack forced the window to open, and then chucked his computer out, not even bothering to watch it fall to it's death. It was at that moment that the sprinklers that were built into his flat as a safety precaution recognized that there was a fire and sprung into action. Jack sobbed and landed his back against the wall, sliding down it until he hit the floor. And that was where he stayed, as the fire in his trashcan was put out and the sprinklers soaked him to the bone. _

**-xXx-**

_Ianto left Jack's apartment and didn't stop walking until he exited the building. The beyond-cold weather outside bit at his face, turning his tears into crystals that pinched his skin and wouldn't let go. A shiver coursed through the man's body, and ever ounce of him wanted to turn back and go into the warm apartment complex, but he wouldn't let himself. His hands dug deeper into his pockets and his right hand closed around what he was looking for – cigarettes and a lighter. It had been a while since Ianto had actually smoked, normally Jack served as his relaxation. However, since Jack was the source of Ianto's distress, he dug into the cancer-sticks without a second thought._

_His fingers shook with coldness and emotion as Ianto attempted to light the fag. He didn't stop walking, didn't look where he was going as he poured all of his attention and focus into the singular task. Short on patience and still angry, Ianto suddenly chucked the cigarette as far away as possible and then let out a sob, falling against the wall of Jack's apartment complex. Ianto had unconsciously walked into the alleyway between that building and another. Alone, exhausted, and completely heart broken, Ianto felt his legs go out from underneath him and he fell to the ground, unable to even sniff, the cold freezing his nose._

_Ianto replayed the fight over and over in his head. Jack's words morphed together with the words that Ianto's father had yelled at him all those years ago, and Ianto silently cried. What was he supposed to do now? Jack had become his life – the center of his universe. But now, Jack was pissed and angry and not only that, he had tried to manipulate Ianto. _

_The Welshman once again reached into his pocket, his whole body numb – and not just because of the cold. This time, he managed to light the cigarette, and brought it up to his lips. That little bit of warmth did nothing to sooth him, and he coughed a bit on the smoke. Still, Ianto brought it to his mouth again and again, until the stub was too short to smoke. He flicked it to the ground, stepped on it, and then lit another one._

_Ianto would have sat there all night, smoking until he ran out of cigarettes, except, only a couple minutes after he had fallen to the ground, something came falling from out of the sky and crashed on the pavement directly in front of Ianto. Scared, Ianto let out several choice words as he scrambled to his feet. His fingers lost their grip on his fag, and it fell to the ground. He slowly approached the fallen object, frowning as the thing started to resemble a certain unanimated object. _

_It had broken into pieces as soon as it hit the ground, small slivers of technology spread out into a random pattern. There were a few large chunks, and when Ianto picked them up, he gasped. It looked just like Jack's computer._

_Ianto spun and glanced up, automatically zeroing in on the window that was connected to Jack's apartment. It was open – which was strange enough in itself. But there was one thing that caused Ianto's heart to stop. There was a small stream of smoke lazily floating from the room._

"_Oh god, no…" Ianto dropped the piece of equipment and started to run desperately back to the front of the building. The pain and biting words of the fight had been instantly forgotten as thoughts of Jack dying entered Ianto's mind. Adrenaline and fear caused him to run faster than he ever had before, and he made it to the front of the complex in record time. Ianto burst through the doors and had started up the stairs until he remembered that he didn't have a key. Cursing, he backtracked and knocked on the landlord's door._

_A woman answered, giving a gentle smile. "Can I help you love?"_

"_I need Jack Harkness' key." Ianto said, his words rushed together in fear and desperation and short of breath from the running and smoking._

"_Sorry hun. Only family and authorized individuals can get the spare key." She said, her voice sounding as if she wanted to help him, but had to abide by the rules._

"_Please, I'm – I'm Jack's boyfriend. He might be in trouble, I have…" Ianto protested._

_The woman pressed her lips together, then nodded. She disappeared, and what seemed like forever, but was only a minute, later, she returned, key in hand. Ianto grabbed it and let out a quick thank you before once again heading for the stairs._

_There was no smoke in the hallway, that was good news. And the door wasn't hot or smelled like anything was burning. Ianto quickly unlocked the door and entered. He was hit by a weird smell – wet cat mixed with smoke. _

"_Jack! Jack!" Ianto called out, entering deeper into the flat. He finally got to Jack's writing room, which he flung open and entered without a second thought._

_Jack was sitting in the corner, staring off into space, soaked to the bone and clutching a rumpled piece of paper. The walls were bare, and there was a huge pile of burnt paper and wet paper in the middle of the floor. Ianto's eyes widened. "Jack, what'd you do?"_

_Jack looked up and frowned a bit. "Yan?"_

_Ianto leaned against the doorway, relief flooding through him. Jack was ok. It was then, that Ianto realized how stupid he had been. He had gotten so worked up – so scared over such a little thing. The only thought that had been running through his mind since he saw the smoke was that Jack was doing something stupid, and that he would die angry. He would die angry at Ianto and he would never have the chance to say goodbye. "Jack…I'm so sorry. I-I was so stupid and it was such a idiotic thing and I overreacted and I'm sorry and I can't loose you please…"_

_Ianto was crying now. Slowly, Jack got up from where he was sitting and walked slowly over to Ianto, where he hugged the man with all he had. The Welshman didn't even complain about getting wet or the smell of fire. He just hugged back, collapsing into Jack. "I'm so sorry too Ianto. I shouldn't have gone behind your back…and you were right, you know. About me being worthless."_

_Ianto pulled back a bit and sniffed. "No…you were the one that's right. Almost right, at least."_

_Jack raised his eyebrow. Ianto gave a small smile, burying his face into Jack's chest and breathing in. His words were muted and blurred, but Jack still caught them. "I'm passionate about something…"_

"_What is that?" Jack asked, his hand slowly rubbing Ianto's back, mentally punishing himself on how close he had gotten to loosing the Welshman that night._

"_Promise me one thing." Ianto said, veering off topic. Jack made a committal grunting noise. "Never leave me. Not like that."_

_Jack held Ianto tighter before pulling him far enough away to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Promise."_

_Ianto kissed him back, then hugged tight once more. They stood there for a little bit, caught up in the embrace. So much so, that Jack almost missed Ianto's whispered answer._

"_You."_

* * *

_**Yes. That last scene was a bit "Desperate Housewives"-ish, but I needed it, and hey, JB was on that, so I think it's ok. ^_^**_

_**Review?**_


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